Page 9 of SnapShot

“You’re saying you’ll cook for me and then leave me high and dry just because I don’t eat meat?”

“What? No. I was just joking. Calm down.”

“Well that’s good because so was I. Of course I like steak.” I don’t miss the drop of his shoulders or the slight smirk that lands on his lips at my response. “So what am I supposed to do while you’re cooking? Sit by the fire and knit?”

“You are one of a kind. I’ll give you that. I figured you’d hang out in the kitchen with me. Ya know, keep me company? Engage in meaningful conversation? Like couples do when they’re on a date.”

“One, we’re not a couple. Two, conversation sounds like work. Three, my feet hurt; where will I sit?” Damn, I need to chill. Apparently, my bitch switch gets flipped when I’m nervous.

“Yet. We’re not a couple, yet. Don’t worry, I’ll make you fall in love with me eventually. If not with my divine culinary skills, then with my sexual prowess.”

“Better cool it, cowboy, or you’ll be ending the night sooner than you think.”

“Why? I didn’t say I was expecting you to go to bed with me tonight. I just said I have skills; when you experience those skills is entirely up to you, little mule.”

“You’re quite the charmer, you know? Did you seriously just call me a fucking mule?”

“Caught that, did you? Yes, I did. You’re stubborn as hell, but I’m sure when handled properly, you turn into the biggest sweetheart.”

“And how would you know?”

“Just a hunch I’ve got.”

“I’ll let it slide, for now, but I’m getting hungry.”

“Alright. Alright. Point taken. Kitchen’s this way.” He leads us out of the small mudroom at the employee entrance and through a set of swinging doors on the right.

The kitchen is decent sized, and it’s honestly one of the cleanest I’ve seen from a restaurant. Not that I’ll tell him that, of course. Before I have time to look for a chair, Charlie grabs my waist and hoists me onto the marble counter top in the center of the room.

Startled, and slightly impressed, I squeal, “Hey! You can’t just go around throwing people where you want to, asshole!”

“Well, how else was I supposed to get a feel of you? Lord knows you’re too wound up to make the first move.” He’s standing between my spread thighs with an arm on either side, blocking me in.

“That was you making a move? If so—” I’m cut off mid-sentence when he grabs the back of my neck and pulls, stealing my words with his kiss.

It takes less than two seconds for me to begin to melt under his caress. His uses his other hand and places it under my chin, pinching slightly with his thumb and pointer finger in order to deepen the kiss. I know it’s stupid of me, but I let him, peeking my tongue out to taste his bottom lip just before his tongue pushes mine back into my own mouth.

All rational thought is lost on me. The only thing worth comprehending right now is how extraordinary this kiss is. Because. Wow. He releases my chin only to glide his thumb down my jawline and spread his hand out over my cheek.

I don’t know how long we spend making out like lustful teenagers, and I don’t even care. I could kiss this man until my lips turn blue, and it still wouldn’t satisfy.

He whispers against my lips, “Do you still have an attitude, or can I start cooking your dinner?”

“Depends, do I get more of this for dessert?”

“Only if you’re a good girl until then.” He winks at me as he squats in front of me to grab a skillet from the cabinet directly beneath me.

Why can’t I get the raunchy visual of him between my legs for other reasons out of my head? He twirls it in his hand as he stands and gives me his back, turning on the stove. I’m dumbfounded. He broke me. That quick. I’m completely speechless.

“Words would be nice, yes?” All I can manage is a meager nod until I realize he’s not looking at me.

Clearing my throat, “I think I can manage that.” I hear him chuckle to himself as he heads toward the walk-in freezer.

Watching this brute of a man finagle his way around the kitchen is doing something to my insides, and I’m not sure if I like it or not.

***

There is no reason the meal had to taste that good. The steak was cooked to absolute perfection, melted in my mouth; the baked potato and sauteed mushrooms were exquisite. I’m a little pissed honestly. Now I’m going to be craving his cooking. He did this shit on purpose to make me come back for seconds, or thirds.

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